


We can make it out alive

by fantasy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Greek gods, M/M, hints of cher and niall, lourry, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasy/pseuds/fantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're gods. It's not like anyone can expect them to be anything less than dysfunctional morons when it comes to feelings and being more than just friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We can make it out alive

**Author's Note:**

> Extended summary:  
> Harry's a self-proclaimed matchmaker, otherwise known as Eros, the god of love and Louis is Hermes, the flighty messenger god, who flirts but never stays for the morning-afters.  
> Zayn's the god of light, music and art, Apollo, who wants more than just sex from Liam, the crowned prince of Troy, historically known as Hector.  
> Liam's afraid of what he feels for Zayn and Niall's Dionysus, the god of wine and celebration, who's trying to figure out whether spiking the drinks was a very good idea after all  
> Needless to say, shit happens and drama ensues.  
>  
> 
> So this is me putting a few of my favourite things together.  
> I've taken quite a few liberties here and I'm not an expert on Greek history and mythology, so there'll most definitely be some inaccurate facts and mentions.  
> This is basically a blend of stuff I know, stuff I googled, a historic era with modern language, references etc etc. 
> 
> I do not own one direction, the greek gods, mythology, cher, ed or anything/anyone in this fic and I am in no way claiming this is real.  
> Story title from the song Unpredictable by 5sos.  
> 

It was early in the morning.  
Too early in the morning to do anything, in Niall’s opinion.  
And yet here he was, lying bleary-eyed and half-awake against a tree in one of the lawns of Olympus, nursing a terrible hangover from last night's drink fest and, quite obviously and very unfortunately, doing something.  
Not of his own will, mind you; he was roped in by Harry and his god-forsaken conscious. 

He cursed, rubbing his temple, frustrated with his killer headache. It was as if he wasn't Dionysus, the literal god of drinking, but some mortal, who drank one beer too many.

In what region of the Greek empire was it remotely fair that the god of wine and drinking had to suffer a hangover? He questioned aloud.

Harry snorted.

"It's because you spiked the drinks last night with Zeus-knows-what, idiot. Any herb from the northern hills of Argos affects gods and mortals alike, you know that," Harry said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh right. That thing Louis had slipped him last night. In Niall’s defense, he was only experimenting with the newly discovered substance, purely for scientific reasons. Not because Louis swore that stuff left you at a permanent high or he'd wanted to mess with the mortals at the bar, or anything. Of course not.

"Gods I wish I hadn't drank so much." Harry said remorsefully. "Why didn't you or Zayn stop me?"

Niall raised his eyebrows at him, the recent drunk night's memories still almost fresh in his mind. Last night had been a tad more eventful than others, and that was saying something considering what he and Louis get up to.

"Zayn was too busy whining about that Trojan prince of his and mate, trust me even if I wanted you I couldn't have stopped you from downing the shots, you know that." Niall told him.

Harry sighed dolefully. Last night seemed like a blurry, colossal mistake now, as he thought over the reasons why he currently felt like one of the Thracian Gigantes had risen from the underworld and was currently trampling over his head.

"Is he back yet?" He asked Niall for the millionth time, his forehead creased in worry.

"Pretty sure, you and I both would know if he was, H." Niall replied, an uncharacteristically sympathetic look on his face. 

Harry frowned at the veracity of Niall’ s words. Louis was never one for anything less than the grandest entrances, to however small gatherings.  
When he'd come back, Louis would most probably make sure the whole of mount Olympus would be aware.  
He was like that, naturally and instinctively and Harry couldn't help but like this side of Louis too, the flair for dramatics and attention that he'd supported through the centuries that had passed.

And although Harry had almost no idea how he was going to face him after what he'd done, he really wished Louis was back, and next to him again.

What consoled him was that Louis would have to be back from wherever he was by that evening, for the dinner Zeus was holding. 

Louis never missed a gathering of the gods, he enjoyed it immensely to be around the immortal superiors of Olympus, throwing in sarcastic remarks, dry humour and witty comments that made even the dullest of the dull gods crack a smile.

Harry liked seeing the gods and hearing about their disturbingly eventful relationships, scandals and one night stands.  
He couldn't resist meddling with their love lives, throwing in a purely lustful crush or a genuine liking and interest here and there, manipulating potential relationships from developing as he pleased.  
And it wasn't as if he could help himself, he told Niall, Zayn and Louis, when they asked him not to interfere in private matters of the gods.  
He was, after all, the god of love and attraction and it was in his natural gene pool, an inborn instinct to do so. 

Silently, Harry sifted through the possible changes and new relationships that might be revealed today.  
Some of them, like Persephone and Hades rumored to be fucking every other night, despite Persephone’s claim to loath the very air Hades breathed in, were very obviously expected.  
Others like his mum, Aphrodite, and her latest affairs with mortals, gods and demi-gods alike, although she was married to Hephaestus, were just plain repetitive and everyone, even Harry, had lost interest. 

However, maybe there was something Harry could do about the blacksmith god and his very unlucky love life. 

Hephaestus wasn't a bad guy; he was just not the most inviting god of the bunch.  
Ed, as Harry had taken to calling him, was a quieter version of Zayn, the god of the sun, if you picture Zayn without the starving artist meets hipster-ish grunge look, the chiseled features and the charming mysterious attitude.  
He was more of a ready-for-a-pint-anytime-but-I’ll-keep-to-myself-more-often-than-not kind of bloke, with a shock of ginger hair, a rarely occurring but wide smile and the ability to conjure poetry so beautiful that the coldest of mortals melted and fell at his feet.  
And he wasn't about to bother shooting Aphrodite with one of his metaphorical arrows anytime soon.  
As far as he cared, his mum had enough of lust and love to deal with already; he wasn't about to give her the chance of falling for someone properly, unless she earned it in another eternity or two. 

He considered shooting Artemis or Cher, as she liked to be called, an arrow for Hephaestus, and doing the poor guy a favour.  
He decided against it, he'd seen the looks Niall had been shooting her and he knew she wouldn’t appreciate being forced to settle down. 

He wished he could do something about Zayn and his newfound love, Liam, the crowned prince of Troy.  
As much as he denied his interest in the mortal prince, the fond wide smile that lit up Zayn’s face when someone barely mentioned the bravery or wisdom or even just the name of Prince Liam, was itself worth a trillion gold coins.  
But unfortunately, he'd been warned by Zayn not to interfere with anything to do with him and Liam because, in Zayn's words, he was perfectly capable of handling his own life, thank-you very much and why doesn't Harry do something about his infatuation with Louis, instead of bothering him about Liam and trying to set Louis up with random strangers non-stop? Harry snorted If only Zayn had known exactly what harry had ended up doing about his infatuation with Louis. 

"Hey niall?" Harry said suddenly, sitting up. "Who do you think Louis was with last night?"

Niall shrugged. "Think it was some bloke with massive biceps. Saw 'em talking to eachother. He had this hair thing going on. But Zayn was with Lou later so can't really say mate, sorry." He shrugged again.

"Oh," harry said, running a hand through his half up, half down, curly mess of hair. "Why d'you think he's not back yet?" He asked, plopping himself on one arm. 

Niall looked at him, aware that harry and him both knew there could only be round a million reasons for that:  
a) Louis had evolved overnight into someone who actually bothered to stay for the morning-after  
b) the sex had been so good, Louis had opted to stay for morning sex as well  
c) he got held up somewhere and didn't have sex at all  
d) Louis participated in a mortal orgy and got so caught up he doesn't want to leave them  
e) Louis had suddenly decided to not show up at mount Olympus all morning although he must've guessed Harry would he waiting for him  
f) he had been finally abducted by the humans or, worse, by Eleanor, the princess of Thebes  
g) ... The list was endless.

Harry sighed.  
He wondered if Louis remembered last night at all, if Louis was thinking about it the way Harry was or if Louis even cared that harry had kissed him and he had kissed him back.  
With Louis' flirtatious and never-sticking-to-one-bloke attitude, it would seem unlikely that Louis would be feeling or doing any of the three.  
But there was just this feeling.  
Like the unusual tingly sensation he'd felt on his lips after he kissed Louis. Or the adrenaline rush like buzzing feeling he got when Louis dragged him of to one of his late night adventures, just him and Harry (which, however harry denied it, mostly was from Louis' firm grasp on his arm and not so much because of the thrill of defying Zeus or anything.)  
It was just that Harry'd not exactly felt like this before and he knew, he just knew, that this was different, that Louis was different from all his hookups over the centuries and the tingly sensation told him that maybe, just maybe, Louis thought Harry was different as well. It was a weird feeling, knowing or having a hunch of what Louis felt about him, without him saying anything, but harry was, after all, the god of love and attraction.  
Knowing true feelings was part of his job description and as much he was afraid that he was just imagining all of this and Louis really didn't care, he was inclined to believe his godly instincts, because when had he been wrong about relationships before? 

(Don't answer that.) 

 

\--

 

It was as Harry thought all this, that Louis, or Hermes, as his a father was so fond of calling him, rolled over on the bed he'd been sleeping on, towards the other occupant of the strange bed. Greeted with a head of scruffy black hair (and not the mass of curly brown hair he'd hoped to find next to him), he yelped, turning back around and rolling off the bed. He landed with a thump on the wooden floor.

"What the fuck?" the stranger mumbled. Well not so much a stranger, as he rolled over, facing Louis. 

"Zayn?" Louis asked surprised. "What're you doing here?" He cried, trying to untangle himself from the sheets that had entwined around his body overnight.

Zayn winced and rubbed his paining head.  
"Would you stop shouting? It's my bed, what do you think I'm doing here, Lou?" 

His bed. Oh. As in Zayn’s bed. As in Zayn, the god of the sun's bed. And not some strangers or Harry's (though he wouldn't really mind the latter). The words registered themselves in Louis' hungover mind. Wait. Why was he here then?

"So this is your bed?" Louis asked slowly, his head hammering painfully.

"Yes, Lou, this is my god damn bed," Zayn replied, irritated and itching to go back to sleep. 

"Just checking," Louis said hastily. "So if this is your bed, then what am I here?" He gestured to his half naked, only boxers-clad self, legs still tangled with a sheet.

"I dunno," Zayn shrugged. "It was a bit of a late night, you looked sad and very drunk and desperate for a shag so I took pity on you and dragged your ass here so you could sleep out the drunken mopey state you were in. And I couldn't exactly let you sleep alone after the pathetic state you were in so." 

Ah. Well that made sense. Ish. Louis thought. His head was painfully pounding, his muscles aching and his throat raw. He vaguely remembered spiking the drinks with a drug that someone, probably Harry, kept telling him would affect them as gods as well as the mortals that were present at the bar.

But that was something to dwell on later. It wasn't everyday he found himself terribly hungover and in Zayn's bed and he couldn't exactly trust his drunken self to think before doing anything stupid.

"So nothing happened, right?" He said. "You and I... we didn't do anything we wouldn't do otherwise right?"

"No," Zayn said with half a laugh. "We didn't do anything Lou. Don't worry, I'm very much aware that you're saving yourself for a certain curly haired god of love." 

Louis rolled his eyes, of course Zayn would take this moment to bring up his catastrophic love life like the brilliant supportive best mate he'd been all these centuries.

"Though, in my opinion," Zayn said, smirking. "You're a bit too late for that, counting all the people you've fucked." 

"Right." Louis said, the sides of his mouth quirking upwards. "Like you're the god of purity, right Z? Just waiting till you get the chance to fuck poor, innocent Liam into senselessness." He laughed at Zayn's reddening face.

"Unless," he said, his eyes glinting mischievously. "You've already done it?" 

Zayn's cheeks were flaming. He knew he wasn't exactly the most discreet about his, ah, interest in Liam, the trojan prince, but he wasn't exactly about to admit to having fucked Liam into oblivion a few nights ago. Unfortunately, Louis could read him like an open book. 

"You did?" Louis said delightedly as he straightened himself up. "And you didn't even tell me? Zayn!" He poked his chest, mock accusingly.

"It wasn't- we- I didn't- I didn't know how to tell you," Zayn mumbled, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "He hasn't exactly talked to me since then so, I dunno, I thought it didn't really mean anything."

"He what?" Louis said, almost speechless. And here he thought his love life was dramatic. "But you- and him- both of you- were just so- so- damn it, have you tried talking to him?"

"I tried, I swear. I went to his palace in Troy and everything, but he hasn't said a word." Zayn shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to do, Lou, I really don't." 

Louis stared at him, Zayn who'd always had this air of uncaring superiority, of mystery and aloofness, Zayn who'd evolved to this smitten bloke with actual, proper feelings for someone, that wasn't him, Harry or Niall. It was almost sweet, if he didn't look like he was going to cry or worse. 

"Zayn, babe, look." Louis patted his shoulder. "It'll work out, I swear. Liam will get the sense to talk to you soon and if he doesn't, he doesn't deserve you, okay? And any bloke that denies the great Apollo is a massive idiot, alright? And if it makes you feel better, I'll- I'll talk to harry for you, about just what the fuck Liam's thinking." He said.

Zayn shook his head. As much as he loved Harry, the last thing he wanted was for harry to interfere in his and Liam's, well, whatever they had. And he knew Louis and Harry weren't at their best at this point in time so he should probably let them solve their shit and he'd solve his own.

"No mate, its fine, don't. I know you and harry are having problems of your own and stuff. And anyway, like you said, it'll work out, Liam'll talk to me if he wants to and if he doesn't," Zayn let out a shuddering breath and gave him a weak smile. "I'll just deal with that then."

Louis opened his mouth to reply but closed it again. He knew he wasn't exactly the best person to give relationship advice, considering how messed up his own was.  
Not that he had much of one.  
It was just a kiss on a very drunk night, that might've meant more to him than he'd figured it should.  
Of course, he could always try talking to Harry about it, but just thinking about the god, made shivers run down his spine as he remembered Harry's pink lips, his large as fuck hands, his fuckable mouth and the way he stared at Louis with his green piercing eyes, like he was all that mattered in the world.  
So talking to harry, without embarrassing himself or getting hard or both, was definitely out of the question.  
And after Louis had, in his not-so-drunk state, willingly and very eagerly kissed Harry back, he'd found out, by the look on Harry's face after the kiss was over, just how much of a mistake he thought it to be.  
And now, Louis couldn't face harry until he absolutely had to, which, most probably and very unfortunately, would be tonight. 

Zayn must've seen the look on Louis' face because he opened his mouth to say something reassuring as well. He was cut off, however, by a knock on the door of his room. 

"Come in," he called and the massive bedroom doors opened and a young girl, a teenage nymph, stepped in. 

"M'lord, there's a visitor for you." She said bowing and looking slightly ashamed but mostly delighted to see to gods half-naked so early in her service as a nymph. "It's your sister, m'lord, her highness, Artemis."

Zayn groaned. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Cher and her nonsensical chatter. Of course, once Cher set out to do something, she got it done so there was no avoiding her, really. 

"Tell her we'll be right down," Zayn said shortly, running a hand through his hair.

"What time is it?" Louis asked poking his head out from Zayn's cupboard where he'd started to rummage for clothes, looking straight at the wood nymph. 

"Ah, its about two glasses till midday, sir." She said, blushing at being addressed so directly, before excusing herself and leaving the room.

"Let's go then," Zayn said stifling a yawn and clambering out of bed. He and Louis got dressed hurriedly, with the occasional punch (from Zayn) in Louis' gut for nabbing one of his favourite robes before he got to it.

As they walked down the stairs, Louis mumbled about why in Olympus' name couldn't Zayn charm a royal carpenter into installing some sort of an automatic flight of stairs, so Louis wouldn't have to waste his energy or something like that, Zayn wasn't really listening. He had half a mind to remind Louis that he was the messenger god for gods sake, he had a pair of flying shoes. Why was he complaining and not flying? He didn't want to give Louis any ideas though, Zeus knows what he'd get upto otherwise.  
And anyway, Zayns mind was occupied. He was anticipating, not entirely positively, Cher's reason for coming so early in the morning. She was well aware Zayn wasn't at his best caliber till well after midday so either what she needed to talk about was urgent or terribly pointless and purely done to annoy him. For some reason he suspected the latter. 

 

\--

 

"Cher." He greeted her with a nod of his head as he entered the main hall of his palace, where she stood tapping her foot, impatiently waiting for him.

"Zayn," she said solemnly, her face devoid of even a hint of a smile for as long as it took to count till ten, before it split into a grin.

"Zaynie," she said hugging him as Zayn scowled against her terrifyingly strong arms. "I missed you." 

"We saw each other last night," he said through clenched teeth. Her voice was, probably deliberately, octaves higher than usual and right next to his ear, making his head pain more. 

"Oh right," she said laughing, pulling away as Zayn massaged his arms. 

"Anyway, good morning to you too sunshine," she said, smoothing down her hair. 

Louis cleared his throat, from behind Zayn.

"Hi, Lou." She said offhandedly, sparing him a glance before rummaging through her bag. 

"Cheryl." Was the short reply. She and Louis were never one for formalities, at least not for eachother.

"So yesterday I got the invitation for Zeus' dinner dinner you sent out, Lou," she told him, brandishing a familiar white and brown engraved card. "And last night I realized it said special guests will be present." She pointed to a line he vaguely remembered reading. 

"So I thought," her tone becoming more excited by the second. "Who could that mean? So I called in a favour with Ares. You know, the war guy, the one I fucked ages ago at Aphrodite's party, the one with the red marquee? Which, by the way, didn't even go with the purple table cloth, she so should've gone for red and gold. I told her-"

"Cher?" Zayn interrupted. "Cut to the chase."

"Right, right," she said distractedly. "Okay so I asked Ares if he knew anything about the special guests but he said all he knew was that they were mortals, which was obvious, that guy is such a knob. All muscle and no brains. But an animal in bed let me tell you, god damn that's a night to remember. He just-" 

"Cher!" Zayn cried as Louis snorted behind his back. "The point?"

"Oh right," Cher said unabashedly. "I thought I'd give you a heads up since your beau will be there."

"What?" Louis asked poking his head out from behind Zayn, who was staring blankly at Cher. "Why?"

"Beats me," she shrugged. "Ares said something about Zeus thanking the mortals for dedicating the victory of the Trojans over the Romans to him. I'm not sure. The point is, he'll be there." 

"He?" Zayn asked confused.

"You're beau, Zayn, that prince you're caught up with, Lime or whatever." Cher ignored the gobsmacked expression on Zayn's face as she rattled on. ."Not that I blame you or anything, for wanting him. He is one fit guy, I mean, just look at his arms. Gods, that guy is definitely something. And its cute how much you like him, really. Like harry with Louis or Louis with Harry which is pretty much the same thing, with the lovey-dovey way they treat each other, like they want to cuddle but also rip each others clothes off, which doesn't really make sense at all. But then, I can't remember the last time you three ever made sense. I swear the only remotely normal one out of you all is Niall. Though, when you think about it, that one's pretty much off his rocker too. But he's got the charm and the looks that you too very clearly missed out on. Not that you guys are ugly or anything. And anyway what does it matter in the end right? You have your Liam and Louis and Harry have each other and everything's disgustingly cute and fluffy in the end." She paused to take a breath, observing their reactions.

Louis and Zayn wore almost exactly the same stunned expression, their mouths opening and closing like fish.  
Louis was the first to speak.

"I- you- we do not!" He said indignantly. There was no way anyone could tell he liked Harry more than he put on. No way.  
He didn't even proper like him.  
All he wanted was to fuck him and kiss him and cuddle him and be with him and want him to only belong to Louis. That was it. No lovey-dovey stuff anywhere.  
Also if Harry really liked him, forget love, he wouldn't keep trying to set him up with so many gods and mortals. So, yeah. He wasn't in love with Louis. Unfortunately, Cher was hard to convince. She shook her head disbelievingly.

"We are not in love with eachother!" He insisted. At least, he knew Harry wasn't.

She shot him a yeah-you-are-and-its-pretty-damn-obvious look.  
Louis would have retorted but there were more pressing matters.  
Namely, Zayn looking like he was going to throw something, hit someone or puke any moment now.  
He glared at Cher, warning her he would deal with her later and grabbed Zayn's arm making him sit down on the nearest chair. 

"Breathe," he instructed him as Cher rolled her eyes at him, muttering something the sounded an awful lot like "boys," "drama queens," "relationship problems" and "its only a guy for Olympus' sake," all in one sentence. But Louis wasn't entirely sure, he was too busy trying his best to wipe the aghast look of Zayn's face.

"Zayn, babe, its okay, just breathe," Louis said trying to sooth him.

"It's just a mortal," Cher said loudly and very helpfully. "It's not a terribly big deal, Zayn." 

Louis glared at her. It was clearly a big deal, for Zayn at least. 

"What?" She replied, seeing Louis' look. "It's not." She said firmly.

"So what if he slept with him? If it meant something to you, Zayn, tonight's your chance to prove it. Go tell him. For Olympus' sake, Z, man up. You're a god, not a weepy, ball-less mortal. I didn't tell you he'd be there so you could break down. I told you so you can get your ass there and stake your claim. You. Are. A. God. Do I need to spell that out for you? You like him? Go get him."  
She ended her pep-talk of sorts with a pat on his back and leaving before things got too dramatic for her taste. 

"See you tonight." She called.

Zayn stared at her retreating back. Did she really think it was that simple?  
That he could just saunter in and claim Liam as his own? It wasn't that easy. Yes, sex with Liam meant something to him, yes, Liam meant a lot to him.  
But from being distant friends, to closer ones, to sharing a kiss or two in the confidence of Liam's chambers, to being able to sense the sexual tension in the air between them, to feeling like only they mattered to each other and to finally give into what they really wanted, was a big step.  
Zayn knew he wanted more that just that from Liam and he was almost positive Liam knew it too. And he'd thought Liam had wanted the same thing. Till he stopped answering Zayn when he called for him at his palace on troy and he stopped letting Zayn come in to his private chambers.  
Of course Zayn could come and go as he pleased but he needed to give Liam the space he deserved.  
And tonight.  
Tonight he'd see him again.  
Tonight he'd be able to talk to him.  
Tonight he could tell liam that he wanted more than just a one-time fuck, much more than just a few heated kisses.  
He wanted Liam. All of him. His crinkly eyes and soft smile, his slicked hair, his laugh, his small quirks, his everything. He was sure of that.

But the question was, would Liam want him too?

"If he means enough to you, Z, you should tell him," Louis said as if reading his mind. 

"Now come on, let's get a bite or two, I'm starving," he said, pulling Zayn up, dragging him out the front door and onto the small terrace that led to the palaces gardens.

"The kitchens the other way, Lou," Zayn gestured vaguely to the closed door behind them. 

"We're not sticking to your plain old kitchen food," Louis rolled his eyes as he deftly slipped on his winged shoes. "We're going to go pay Niall's place a visit and get some food from there." 

He latched on to Zayn's hand, as he kicked off into into the sky.  
Zayn squealed, a very un-Zayn-like sound, holding on to Louis as they flew past the cloudy ground that surrounded his palace. The winds whooshing past them, Louis laughed, delighted with the thrilling feeling of flying that he never got tired of, and very amused at Zayn's reaction.  
Who knew the god of the sun, the god who's palace was in the clouds, was afraid of soaring through the sky?  
As Louis guided them through the clouds and towards mount Olympus, Zayn slowly lifted his head, the breeze brushing his hair back.  
He wondered if Louis realized that harry would probably be with Niall right now.  
He considered asking him but, honestly he wanted Louis and Harry to man up and talk to each other, after the progress they'd made last night.  
If the kiss and the after-effects had indicated anything, it was that Louis and Harry did like each other, they just needed to admit it.  
And anyway it wasn't as if Louis would be able to hear him with the loud sounds of the winds rushing past their ears. So he let it be.  
Perhaps, he hoped, seeing Harry again would knock some sense into Louis' head.

 

\--

 

Niall could hear a distinct fluttering of wings overhead. He sat up in the lawn, grass sticking to his back, and waved at the pair he saw flying down.  
He could've spotted them a mile away: Zayn clinging on to Louis for dear life as they glided through the air, the wings on Louis' shoes rapidly moving up and down.  
He grinned at them as they touched the ground, Zayn almost falling headfirst against the ground, still hanging on tight to Louis' robes, that were threatening to rip any second.

"Mate," Zayn said, straightening up, smiling back at Niall. 

"Where've you both been?" Niall asked, reaching out to sling a hand over Zayns neck and planting a deliberately wet kiss on Louis' cheek. "Should've seen harry, Lou, he was worried sick about ya." 

Niall saw a brief guilty look flicker on Louis' face, before it changed to a disgusted one as he wiped the slobber of his cheek.

"Spent the night at Zayns," Louis replied breezily. "Right dead off my feet, I was, after last night. Just what did you spike the drinks with, Niall?" He asked, a mock stern look on his face. 

"As if you don't know," a voice drawled behind them. They swiveled around. Harry walked up and reached Nialls side, directly across Louis, who hadn't as yet met his gaze. "I dunno about you three, but I distinctly remember telling all of you that you'd regret mixing the vodka with the drug from Argos." His lips quirked into a smile. 

Niall rolled his eyes. 

"Yeah, yeah, but even you drank it mate, and anyway," he said easily. "It was all in good fun." 

Good fun that brought ground breaking hangovers, Harry thought dryly. 

He faced Niall. "Marianne says breakfast'll be ready in a bit. She said no beer though, 'm pretty sure she saw how hungover you looked when I dragged your butt outta the house this morning." He said to him, nodding at Zayn who grinned back, lifting a hand in greeting.

Harry half paid attention to Niall's protests: "what's a beer or two got to do with a hangover?" "Bloody mental that women."  
He'd noticed Louis was avoiding looking at him in the eye.  
Which was fine by him. He didn't blame Louis for not knowing how to act around his supposed "friend," who'd crossed "friend" boundaries and gone and kissed him just the night before.  
He didnt.  
Except.  
Louis had kissed him back and, unless he'd done it purely because he was too drunk to think straight, which Harry's godly instinct highly doubted, he wanted Louis to speak up or at least look him in the eye so he could know things were going to be okay between them.  
Harry observed Louis silently, half listening to Zayn as he filled Niall in on what Cher told him about Liam attending the party that night.  
He watched him run a hand through his windswept hair. As he pushed his hair up, his fringe fell back over his forehead. Harry could watch Louis do this all day, his brow furrowed with frustration as he tried to get his hair to stay off his face and away from his eyes. It never quite worked but Louis still adamantly refused to let Cher come anywhere near him with a pair hair cutting scissors.  
His eyes, however tired and hungover he was, were a bright and piercing shade of blue, Harry's favourite bit of him.  
And although he wasn't yet looking straight at Harry, he could see the ghosts of a smile and laugh lines etched into Louis face. From his sharp cheekbones, to his muscular arms and short but unbelievably fitting figure, Louis was a sight worthy of more than just the statues built of him throughout the Greek Empire.  
A sight worthy of more than the gods themselves. 

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

Suddenly, Louis looked up at him, opening his mouth for a fraction of a second, as if to say something before shutting it again, his lips pursing into a thin line.  
Louis wasn't sure how to start a conversation with Harry. They'd always had something or the other to talk about, never running out of things to say. It was as if, after last night, everything had already become so different.

"You look nice," blurted Harry. 

Or not so different, Louis thought to himself, his lips stretching into a smile. 

Harry's eyes widened as he realized he'd spoken aloud.  
"Sorry, I-" he started.

"Thankyou," Louis cut him off, grinning. "You look nice too."  
(And it wasn't a lie, Louis thought, his eyes drifting to Harrys unruly mass of hair that looked carelessly messy and suited him so well, Louis could write, and may have written, poetry about.  
With Harry's long as fuck legs that were even more defined by his unusually skin tight lowers, his toned chest that his fitted overshirt displayed clearly and his pale turquoise robes that brought out the bluish highlights of his eyes, he topped Adonis, in his opinion.  
Harry was fit, alright.)

Harry smiled back at Louis. Things weren't exactly the same between them as before, he could tell, but at least they were talking.  
That was an improvement, of sorts.

"You're coming tonight right?" He asked Louis.

Louis nodded, beaming at Harrys hopeful tone.

"Good," Harry replied, his face completely serious as he turned a bit to face Niall, Zayn as well. "Because I was thinking about it and we should do something about Hephaestus."

He took a deep breath before continuing, pausing as if he was about to reveal a mastermind plan of his. "Eds a nice bloke," he said determinedly. "And we shouldnt just leave him tied down while Aphrodite goes at it with every other specimen with a dick. So I dunno, let's pull some strings and find him a nice girl?" 

"Harry," Zayn groaned. "What've we told you about interfering with other peoples lives?" 

"It's not interfering," Harry said defensively. "It's a like helping, just they don't know I'm doing it. Anyway, Z, Ed deserves a nice girl, you know that."

Niall shook his head. "You don't ever get tired of this do you, H?"

"It's my job," Harry replied indignantly. "I'm a matchmaker, its what I do, Niall." 

"Matchmaker," Niall snorted. 

"It's true," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling.

He looked so adorable that Louis had to resist the temptation of kissing the pout right of his face. He smiled fondly up at Harry. 

"It's alright, babe," Louis said, patting his arm. "You can be a self-proclaimed matchmaker, I don't mind."

"I'm not self proclaimed," Harry huffed, trying to ignore the tingles that shot up his arm where Louis touched him. "I'm the god of love for Olympus' sake, its what I'm supposed to do!"

Louis stifled a laugh, pressing his lips together to stop a smile from spreading. Harry managed to look utterly endearing and irresistibly adorable even while pouting.

Niall laughed, holding his arm out for Harry.  
"Shall we go for breakfast then, O Divinely Apointed Matchmaker Extraordinaire?" He asked Harry with a sweeping hand gesture, hints of a smile visible on his face. 

Harry deliberated a moment, deciding whether to be affronted or not. Puffing his chest, he grinned at Niall, ruffling his hair and linking their arms.

"We shall," he said, with an exaggerated air of importance, pulling him along in what looked like a half-skip, half-stroll.

"Idiots," Zayn snorted at them, grabbing Louis' arm and following close behind, headed towards the kitchen quarter of Niall's palace.

 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Do tell me what you think, I'd really love it.  
> I've got an idea of where I'm going with this but let me know how you see this continuing.  
> Come talk to me:  
> entirelyinsane.tumblr.com
> 
> -E


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